


unknown

by shogo



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Codependency, Dom/sub Undertones, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 22:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12443454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shogo/pseuds/shogo
Summary: the flat is nearly silent.





	unknown

_It really is a strange thing_ , Shogo reflects idly to himself, staring up at the cracked plaster ceiling overhead. _That despite all reason that suggests otherwise, people have come to rely so heavily upon others._  
  
The flat is nearly silent. 

  
Only the constant but quiet hum of the space heater filled the space, Shinya’s soft breathing nearly lost beneath the low sounds.  
  
It was both parts eery and yet somehow cathartic, Shogo muses as he turned his head slightly on the pillow to gaze instead out the window closest to the bed. He had only ever experienced the constant bustle of city life at all hours of the day and night. This new silence was strange. Not unwelcome, but strange.  
  
He wants to get up. Wander around the flat, maybe prepare a mug of tea or begin a new book. He had never been the type to sleep the whole night, attributing his overactive mind to his chronic insomnia.  
  
“How long have you been awake?”  
  
Shogo starts, snapped out of his reverie by the sudden break in the silence. He looks over to Shinya, seeing the dim light in the room being reflected back at him. Short black hair is mussed and tangled, the slight croak to his voice belies the alert appearance the ex-Enforcer is trying to wear.  
  
“Not long.” Shogo lies, letting his eyes slide shut briefly before rolling onto his side.  
  
Shinya has a knowing look, intelligence shining clearly in those dark irises. Shogo feels a vague curl of amusement flicker across his chest as he sees the disbelief flicker across the other’s face. He had learned long ago that there were no secrets from Shinya— that there were no secrets at all between the two of them. Not when reading the the other was as simplistic as reading yourself.  
  
“Hm.”  
  
Shinya makes a noncommittal noise. He tilts his head to the side, eyes roving over Shogo’s face for a real answer. He doesn’t say anything else, just waits.  
  
There are red crease marks on his cheeks from the pillow cover, Shogo notes tiredly, and the tell tale bleary, half-awake look is still in his half lidded eyes. It’s really all terribly endearing and for a brief second Shogo nearly forgets himself. It’s becoming more difficult not to.  
  
_“In another life I could’ve fallen in love with you.”_  
  
Because Shinya looks at him, really looks, and every time he does Shogo feels as though he’s suffocating. That the broken, shredded pieces of who he was and of who he is now are being ripped out and surrendered to the other man.  
  
Shogo looks away.  
  
_“But in this one I won’t.”_  
  
“Makishima.”  
  
_Ah_ , and there it is. Shogo’s breath catches and he feels the brittle walls he’s built around himself crumble in an instant. It’s foolish really, completely ridiculous. The life he’s lived and the things he’s done; none of it means anything anymore. Not here, thousands of miles away from the only place he’s ever known. Not here where there isn’t a single familiar face in sight to remind him of his past or of his crimes. Not here when Shinya is at every turn and corner, his dark eyes taking apart every expression to Shogo’s face and every tremor in his hands.  
  
It’s laughable.  
  
Shogo sighs, and the sound is more shaky than he wanted it to be. His eyes slide shut again and he doesn’t bother trying to keep them open. He’s tired. It’s been too much these past years for him too handle and comprehend and he feel like he’s just breaking apart at the seams. He’s not the same person he was, but he doesn’t know how to be anybody different.  
  
There’s a soft touch on his cheek then, steady and careful. It trails slowly over the pale skin there and sweeps down under his jaw. It’s sure and warm and somehow so comforting and not fair in the slightest sense-  
  
“Shogo.”  
  
He sounds more insistent this time. A slight edge has crept into his voice and Makishima feels the relief in his bones at that. He knows how to respond to situations where the other person is less than pleased, but when they’re lying in bed just a few feet from you with a touch on your face that could be called tender if it were anybody else…  
  
Shogo lets his eyes open under the direction. Gray eyes are staring back at him intently, roving over his face and taking in every crack, every tell, every secret that Shogo tries to keep from him. It’s too too much and Shogo bites back the childish urge to close his eyes and roll over to go to sleep. But that would only make Shinya angry, he knew that much. And despite everything they’d done and been through, he couldn’t help the feeling of dismay whenever Shinya was sore with him.  
  
He was already so far gone.  
  
“What?” He murmurs, finally. His allows his eyes to rove over the look that could’ve been caring, worried even. He fights to keep his face neutral even though every instinct he has is screaming at him to stop trying so hard already. So he keeps an edge to his voice and a steel glint in his eyes and hopes that it’s enough.

It’s not.

Shinya suddenly moves, reaching out to touch at Shogo’s cheek. His hands are always so warm, roughed from years of abuse and remarkably gentle considering the history between the two of them. He doesn’t respond or rise to the bait Shogo’s laid out for him, most likely well aware of the trap that yawns in front of him.

It wasn’t an easy thing to trick Shinya. It wasn’t an easy thing to trick somebody who lived by the very same sets of traps that you yourself had grown comfortable with. 

So they lie there in a charged sort of silence, the rattle of the rust-flaked heater acting as the only buffer between them. 

Shogo could _hear_ his breathing grow ragged under the intense gaze and for a moment he hated that Shinya could do this to him. That Shinya and Shinya alone had this absolute, total control over him and didn’t seem to realize or even care just what kind of power he held. 

Or maybe he did. People weren’t to be trusted. Not when their hearts were able to change so suddenly, so completely. Not when they were able to destroy all pieces of something beautiful for a twisted, greedy sense of self driven pride.

There was something strangely fascinating in that, like the bizarre kind of beauty a Venus flytrap possessed when moving in on potential pray; but the game didn’t prove itself as much fun when you yourself were a player in the game. 

“Stop thinking so much.” Shinya murmured suddenly, shaking Shogo from his musings. Those eyes were still fixed on him, a sad kind of understanding reflected at him. “It’s late.”

“I’m not tired.”

Shinya exhaled slowly at that, swiping his thumb over the high part of Shogo’s cheekbone. “Don’t lie to me.” There was a sort of tiredness in his tone, they’ve exhausted this subject even if they’ve never spoken about it. It was in those silently disappointed glances and reluctant pulling away. Lying was a shield, even if it did no good when raised against Shinya.

Shogo turns his face away from Shinya, trying to escape that gaze. It was bitingly cold outside but Shogo would far rather be out there and away from the other man. He didn’t respond, only made a move to try and put distance between the two of them the best he could in a single bed. 

Shinya’s arm shot out almost immediately and pulled him back to pin him once again under those grey eyes. Shogo made a move to shove him away only to have exhaustion prove a hindrance to his agility, allowing Shinya to easily catch Shogo’s hand in his grip. 

Another standstill. 

“Don’t lie to me.” Shinya repeated, although this time it seemed more like a plea than a command. He slowly began the thread their fingers together, palms sliding against each other like the pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. 

Shogo swallowed around the tightness in his throat, feeling his face grow hot under the scrutiny. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Fairy tales didn’t exist and this world had never been kind enough to grace him with genuine happiness. He’d long ago accepted who— _what_ — he was… this wasn’t fair. For Shinya to dangle acceptance and understanding in front of him like a prize he could somehow obtain. 

It wasn’t a safe thing to let hope in.

When Shinya pressed his lips to Shogo’s knuckles, brushing against the skin feather soft, he almost could almost feel himself falling apart.

“Don’t do that.” He heard himself say. Heard the sharpness in his tone. He wanted this, he wanted it more than anything. But lies were pain wrapped in pretty wrapping and shiny ribbons. They were unboxed quickly and left only disappointment in their wake.

“Why not?”

_Because you don’t really mean this. Because you’ll leave eventually. Because the minute those people you left behind call your name to welcome you back you’ll forget about me in a single instant._

He didn’t answer.

Shinya released his hand to instead slide it up under Shogo’s jaw. Fingers tanged themselves in silvery hair and Shinya’s thumb came to rest just under Shogo’s lower lip. Those eyes never left his. “I know why you lie.” He said softly.

Shogo remained silent. He felt his heart rate pick up in his chest, skin burning under Shinya’s touch. Ridiculous. Ridiculous he was so helpless to this all. That it was so easily to pretend reality and fantasy were one and the same.

“You’re afraid.”

Shogo opened his mouth to speak but Shinya tapped at his lip to softly shush him. “You don’t need to be.”

_Don’t fall for it, everyone lies. Remember that. Remember that._

Shogo watched him draw closer, stopped watching as he let his eyes slide shut, listened to the words being whispered against his lips before having them sealed into place in a promise softer than spring rain.  

“I couldn’t possibly replace you after all.” 

But sometimes they told the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> when those 4 am feels hit you hard  
> [tumblr](http://deadroses.co.uk)


End file.
